


The Interview

by DarkBlueSocks



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 13:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14569812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkBlueSocks/pseuds/DarkBlueSocks
Summary: You had always wanted to work for Stark, because you had a massive crush on Mr Stark. But the job interview just went terribly so surely there's no hope now? OR IS THERE? (there is.)





	The Interview

Work was good. I mean, it wasn't 'good'. But it was something to do. Sure, it was the first step on the unstoppable rodent wheel of monotonous adult life that could only be escaped with death. But it was more than that. It was money. And money was being able to pay your half of rent, it was affording Saturday nights to recover from on Sunday mornings and then cry about when you weren't recovered enough by Monday. It was _brand name cereal_.

Of course at the moment you had no work, like the rest of your generation, and instead were sitting in an absolutely petrifying office where an equally petrifying woman sat between you and Potential Employment.

To be completely honest, it wasn't even the employment that you had been after when you first applied for this particular company. There was one particular name associated with the company that you may or may not have had a silly, fangirl crush on and even though you _knew_ Mr Stark would never wander through his own offices where his grunts were, and you _knew_ there was a helipad so he himself would never actually be anywhere near the reception desk.

Well, a girl could dream.

The office you currently found yourself in was stark and white, the woman even more stark and even more white. The hard chair the lady had coldly told you to 'Sit. Down.' in the second you entered the office was starting to make your entire lower back go numb. At this rate when she eventually did reject you, you would surely be stumbling out like a drunkard on pins and needles.

The woman stared at your resume as though this was her first time seeing it. Her right eyebrow rose and lowered in time with the cryptic ticking of an unseen clock. Or possibly the beating of your own heart, it was ambiguous.

You gulped nervously, regretting every single decision that had led to this point. Everyone had told you that just getting this interview was a big deal. That it had made you a big deal to even be considered. But sitting here with a numb ass, in some lady's oversized office as she scrutinised every part time job and university class you had undertaken since highschool.

You were starting to feel like a very small deal.

A very small, insignificant deal.

The lady hummed in her throat. "I'm not seeing a lot of administrative experience on here?" she asked with the kind of politeness you can expect from a lawn mower.

         "Yes, well," you wanted to snap that it was impossible to get a job that would provide you with admin experience if places requiring admin assistance refused to hire anyone without admin experience. But you didn't of course. Because everyone knew this already. You simply smiled and tried to inform the lady that you had received some administrative training through your retail job.

Probably a lie. But what was admin experience anyway?

A loud beeping sounded, saving you momentarily from being fired from a position you didn't yet have. The woman made a tutting sound in the back of her throat. She rose without a word and glanced at her watch.

         "Mr Stark is early today." She seemed to be talking to herself rather than to you, but the sound of Mr Stark's name made your stomach sink painfully even as your ovaries flared. She took some hurried steps towards the door, as an afterthought her eyes flickered to you like you were a rather uninteresting insect on a car windshield. "You can just see yourself out."

So... that was definitely a 'no' then.

A violent sigh ripped from your throat as the perfect body posture fell away and you became slumped in the chair. Slumping if possible made the chair even more uncomfortable, but you couldn't feel your legs well enough to trust them to stand right now. You twiddled your feet absentmindedly as you waited for the unpleasant pins and needles feeling to go away. That Stark lady had wasted your time dragging you down here when she clearly had no intention of considering you, the least you could do was waste the space and air in her office for a few more minutes.

The door that had closed sharply behind the harsh lady slammed back open now. You jumped into a straight backed position. Maybe the lady had realised she had been incredibly rude earlier and now wanted to offer a job purely out of pity?

More like she had just forgotten something, but one needed to have hope.

         "I'm telling you this is the office I need to have gutted. It looked like someone died in here. Several people."

Now there was a voice you would have recognised anywhere.

The infamous Tony Stark stalked into your line of sight, gesturing wildly at the white wall paper and white floor. An ever present smirk, and a curiously quirked brow making you want to swoon and head for the hills. He was followed by a nervous looking gentleman who was frantically making notes on a tablet.

         "Look here's a body." Tony stated, a flippant hand wave in your direction. "There's literally a dead body in here."

         "I'm actually alive, Mr Stark."

Now those were some words you never expected to say in your life. But who would ever expect to speak to Mr Stark. Or be accused of being a dead body by Mr Stark.

         "You certainly are."

Ignoring you at once, Tony Stark snatched up your resume and examined its double paged miserableness. His brow creased even further, one eyebrow jolting up into his hairline as his curiosity was sparked.

         "Happy, give me a minute would you." He made a similar flippant gesture to the man following him as he had initially made to you when he first entered. The man looked distressed but conceded. Not before giving you a pointed look, as though you were a potential threat. Honestly you were only ever a potential threat to yourself. That man hadn't seemed very happy at all.

         "You know there are lot of better jobs being offered than receptionist."

Not unlike a fish out of water, your mouth opened and closed rather stupidly as your attention was forced back to Tony Stark.

Luckily for you, Tony Stark could hold a conversation on his own.

         "We have endless engineer positions, tech and lab assistants, human resources, those people that write those press releases are needing someone creative to make up some new lies."

         "um..." you wanted him to continue babbling, keeping up the conversation without your input as he had done earlier but his eyes rose from your resume and firmly fixed on yours as though he was trying to see into your soul.

         "I don't think I'm really qualified to do anything like that." You supplied the truth awkwardly.

         "Are you qualified to be a receptionist?"

He knew. Who told him.

Embarrassment stained your cheeks red and you wished your legs weren't still incredibly numb so you could go ahead and run - not walk, to the nearest exit. You had already been insulted by the hiring officer, you didn't need the devastatingly handsome Mr Stark making you feel even worse about yourself.

Mr Stark considered you with a calculating stare for a minute more. The clock in the background from earlier sped up, confirming it had been your heartbeat all along. Suddenly, Mr Stark seemed to have seen what he was looking for.

         "I need someone working at the new Avengers facility. Very high profile work, but really glorified baby sitting. Baby sitting of course being one of the hardest jobs in the world to do." He continued to flip your resume around in his hands. He wasn't looking at it anymore. You didn't think he ever really had been looking at it. "I need someone pretty enough to distract them but not so pretty as to distract me."

You weren't sure what to say.

         "oh?" you replied rather lamely.

         "It pays better than being a receptionist. Like double the amount â€“ well actually its salaried so it's infinitely better than the receptionist position."

         "oh." You repeated equally as lame as the first time.

         "But really you're over qualified."

What? Now you _knew_ he didn't read your resume.

He stared at you. It was like he was waiting for you to understand something he had just said. He was speaking too fast. It was all going too fast.

         "oh?"

         "I'm saying you're too pretty."

Wait _what_?

You narrowly stopped yourself from saying 'oh' again by biting down hard on your own tongue.

         "But I think we can make it work regardless. I'd like to offer you the position of full time Avengers Assistant." Tony Stark frowned at his own wording and placed a finger to his lips in thought. "until I come up with a better name for it."

His hand was off his face and shaking yours before you knew what was happening.

         "Okay, we can discuss the complexities of your new position over a business dinner at eight."

What the hell was actually going on

         "Um, yes certainly, Mr um Stark."

         "Please. Just Tony. None of this 'um Stark' business."

He finally let go of your hand only to take up your arm and start steering you towards the door, still rambling his incoherently lovely job offerings.

         "If you deem the business dinner to be successful we can have a date at nine, or eight thirty - your choice."

He had steered you all the way to the lift when you whipped around to show him your shocked face. He didn't look very shocked himself. More mildly amused than anything.

         "Are you... are you seriously asking me out?"

         "Yes. I thought that was obvious."

         "Oh, okay then."

You weren't entirely sure how or why, but you were a hundred percent sure you had landed yourself a date... and like seventy five percent sure you had just gotten a job.


End file.
